


fellows will fall in line

by mimizans



Category: Glee
Genre: Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Domesticity, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimizans/pseuds/mimizans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When their daughters spend a night out, Kurt and Blaine take the opportunity to spend a night in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fellows will fall in line

“Got any... queens?” Blaine asks Margaret Mae, peering at her over the top of his cards.

“Go fish.” She sighs and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Do you think they’re going to come down sometime this century?”

Blaine shrugs. “Probably. This is your dad we’re talking about though, so we may not see them again until he’s completed a total overhaul of Roxanne’s closet.”

Roxanne, fourteen and defiant, had come downstairs in a faded sweatshirt and jeans and announced that she was ready to go to the football game. Kurt had taken one horrified look at her, put down his glass of wine, and marched her up to her room. For the last twenty minutes the dulcet sounds of them arguing over “appropriate clothing to wear in public, Roxanne, I don’t care how you dress as long as you don’t dress like a hobo” had been echoing down the stairs.

Margaret Mae sighs. “Now we’re gonna be late,” she says, frowning at her cards. “Do you have any sixes?”

Blaine hands her a card. “You’re not gonna be late, Mags,” he scoffs. “The game doesn’t start for another hour and a half. Unless you have a hot date you have to get to?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Don’t be weird, Daddy,” Margaret Mae replies, but there is color blooming in her cheeks. 

“Oh, I see,” Blaine says, rearranging the cards in his hand. “No date. Gotcha. Right.” He winks at her.

Margaret Mae purses her lips. “Fine, I have a date,” she says, handing Blaine her fours when he asks for them. “Just don’t tell Dad, okay? He’ll make me change my outfit and then I really will be late.”

Blaine mimes zipping his lips. “You have to tell him when you get home, though,” He offers her his pinky. “Deal?”

Margaret Mae smiles, that rare, goofy one that Blaine hasn’t seen on her much since she hit puberty. “Deal,” she says, linking their pinkies together. 

They hear a muffled shriek from upstairs, and a quick barrage of noise that can only be Roxanne stomping her feet. Margaret Mae rolls her eyes. 

Blaine laughs. “Should I intervene?” he asks, glancing at the stairs.

“Please,” Margaret Mae says. “If you don’t get dad out of there soon he’s going to find the box of screen-printed novelty t-shirts that Roxie has hidden under her bed.”

Blaine chuckles as he puts his cards down and gets up from the table.“Roxie,” he calls up the stairs, “are you almost ready to go?”

Roxanne’s door comes flying open, spilling light onto the landing. “Daddy, I am completely ready to go,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. Blaine notices that while she’s traded out her sweatshirt for a scoop neck t-shirt and a forest green blazer, she still has her favorite worn pair of jeans on. She must have put up quite a fight.

“Well, then, get down here,” he says. “And tell your dad that he’d better come down too, or I’m going to drink his wine for him.”

Roxie pokes her head back into her room. “Daddy says you should go downstairs or he’s going to drink your wine,” she tells Kurt, and Blaine smiles at the speed with which Kurt appears in the doorway.

“You will do no such thing, Blaine,” he says, hands planted firmly on his hips. He looks so much like Roxanne did just a moment ago, proud and stubborn and haughty, that Blaine has to choke back a laugh.

“Stop going through your daughter’s closet and come drink it, then,” Blaine says, lifting the wine glass off the kitchen counter and wiggling it invitingly. 

Kurt sighs and looks at Roxanne. “You are free to go. And please, please remember what I told you about drawstring hoodies.”

“I know, I know,” Roxanne says, hurrying down the stairs, her dark curls bouncing. “Sweatshirts are lazy and ugly and you would throw away Daddy’s Ohio State one if you didn’t think he would divorce you over it.’”

“I love that sweatshirt!” Blaine says indignantly as Roxanne hops down the last step.

Kurt rolls his eyes and starts to descend the stairs. “I wouldn’t actually throw away your sweatshirt, honey. I was just trying to impress upon Roxanne the degree to which I despise the things. As workout wear? Fine. To lounge around the house? Acceptable. But to wear in public?” He shakes his head as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “No child of mine will ever commit such an atrocity.”

“You don’t think you’re going a little bit overboard, Kurt?” Blaine asks, holding Kurt’s glass out to him.

Kurt waves a flippant hand and takes his wine glass from Blaine. “I take fashion seriously, Blaine. Or haven’t you heard?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow. Blaine laughs and presses a kiss to Kurt’s lips.

“Can we finally go?” Margaret Mae asks, brushing past them on her way to the front door. She snatches her car keys off the hook on the wall and twirls them around her finger.

Roxanne comes stumbling out of the shoe closet, trying to pull on her boots and walk at the same time. “Yeah, let’s go!” she says, almost falling on her sister as she struggles with her left shoe.

It's a very surreal moment for Blaine, seeing his daughters standing in the entry hall of their home. Margaret Mae - who Blaine almost never calls Margaret Mae (she’s always Maggie Mae, or Mags, or M&M, or The Moon Over Mae West’s Shoulder when he wants her to roll her eyes) - with her long hair and her thick raspberry sweater, is looking at him and Kurt expectantly, her car keys still in orbit around her index finger. Roxanne - who is always Roxie, except when she’s in trouble, which, admittedly, is pretty often (then she’s Roxanne Elise Anderson-Hummel, What Did You Just Say To Me?) - is holding onto her sister’s arm to keep her balance, still fighting with her boot, but she’s beaming. Even after her tête-à-tête with Kurt, she’s excited to go to her first high school football game.

Blaine remembers when Margaret Mae learned to walk, and when Roxanne said her first word (her Aunt Rachel swears that it was “Barbra,” but Kurt and Blaine are pretty sure it was just “dada”). They’re so grown up now, driving and having secret dates and arguing with Kurt about clothes. It’s amazing, Blaine thinks, that he had any part in making these people who they are. They’re the two best girls in the world, because they’re his girls, and Blaine is so incredibly grateful that he gets to be their father. 

Blaine is snapped out of his embarrassingly poignant thoughts when he hears Kurt laugh softly. “Yes, you can go now,” Kurt says. “Buckle your seat belts. Keep the music down. And no speeding, Margaret Mae.”

“I know, Dad,” she says, already on her way out the door. “I love you guys, bye!”

“Yes, okay, bye!” Roxanne chirps, finally getting her boot on. She darts forward and kisses her fathers on their cheeks. “Love you! See you later!” She slams the door behind her, and then the house is quiet.

Kurt moves to the front door and looks through the window. He sighs. “Maggie put the car in drive first again,” he says, shaking his head. “One of these days she’s going to hit the garage.”

Blaine laughs. “And then you’ll get the pleasure of watching your dad lecture her about car safety all through Thanksgiving dinner.”

“That would be terribly gratifying,” Kurt admits, going to lean on the wall opposite Blaine. He takes a sip of his wine and looks at his husband over the rim of the glass, a smirk playing on his lips. “Why, Blaine, do you know what I just realized?”

A slow smiles spreads over Blaine’s face. “What would that be, darling?”

“The house is completely empty,” Kurt says, putting his wine down on the hall table and moving towards Blaine. He’s hamming it up, swinging his hips from side to side as he walks, and Blaine fights to keep a straight face. “We’re alone. Just the two of us.”

When the girls were young, it was really difficult for Blaine and Kurt to find time to be alone together, let alone have a satisfying sex life. There was always some bedtime disaster - a kid who couldn’t get to sleep, or a nightmare that sent one of them scrambling into their parents’ bed. Some things Kurt and Blaine could get away with, like quick handjobs or missionary under the covers when they were absolutely sure the girls were asleep. If they were lucky, Rachel would come over and babysit so they could sit in a movie theater parking lot and make out like they were teenagers. 

Blaine loves their kids more than anything, and he knows Kurt does too, but he would be lying if he said there weren’t things he missed. Blaine missed being able to spend time with Kurt’s body, spreading him out on their sheets and kissing every part of Kurt he could reach. He missed being able to fuck slowly, without worrying about one of the kids walking in, and he missed getting to moan as loudly as he wanted, missed hearing his own wrecked voice fill their bedroom. 

Now that the girls are older though, they’re out of the house more, at a sleepover or the mall with their friends. And when they’re gone, Kurt and Blaine take full advantage of their freedom. Oddly enough, Blaine feels like he’s seventeen again, waiting for his house to be empty so that Kurt can come over and kiss Blaine hot and desperate in the foyer.

“The house is empty?” Blaine says, his voice low. “What an intriguing development.” His lips quirk up in a smile. “Whatever shall we do?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Kurt says, his voice comically low. Blaine can’t help it - he cracks up, and Kurt follows after him, looping his arms around Blaine’s neck. He laughs into Blaine’s shoulder in that odd, breathy way he has, but Blaine’s heard that laugh so often over the last twenty-five years that he doesn’t find it odd anymore. Kurt’s laugh just sounds like home to him. 

“Seriously, though,” Kurt says, his breath ghosting against Blaine’s neck. “We’re going to take advantage of this, aren’t we?”

Blaine links his hands together at the small of Kurt’s back. “It’s like you don’t know me at all,” he says, shaking his head forlornly. Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine with a laugh in his throat. 

Feeling Kurt smile against his mouth makes Blaine smile too - and while it’s kind of hard to kiss this way, Blaine wouldn’t trade these kisses for the world. These kisses mean that even after all this time, he and Kurt are still so, so in love. Being close to each other makes them happy, so Blaine can’t bring himself to be anything other than perfectly content with awkward, smiling kisses.

Kurt moves his hands into Blaine’s hair, dragging his nails across the scalp, scratching gently. Blaine exhales deeply as Kurt strokes his thumbs across the gray at Blaine’s temples. Kurt kisses Blaine’s forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, mapping out his face with reverent lips.

Kurt finally presses a soft kiss to Blaine’s jaw, his lips lingering against the 5 o’clock shadow. 

“I really want you, you know,” Kurt says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Blaine brings his hands up and places them on either side of Kurt’s face. His thumbs skate over the faint crow’s feet that Kurt swears he doesn’t have, down over the laugh lines that frame Kurt’s mouth. Blaine runs two fingers over Kurt’s lips, and when Kurt opens his mouth and lets Blaine push them inside, Blaine feels a thrill low in his stomach.

“I know you want me,” Blaine says, watching Kurt suck on his fingers. He imagines putting these fingers inside Kurt, feeling Kurt’s body contract around him and hearing Kurt’s low moan. He imagines the slick heat of Kurt’s mouth around his cock, his fingers leaving bruises on Kurt’s shoulders as he tries not to thrust his hips forward. “I know you want me,” Blaine repeats, drawing his fingers out of Kurt’s mouth. He drags them down Kurt’s neck, and they leave behind a wet trail that Blaine finds wonderfully obscene. “I want you, too.”

Kurt surges forward and presses his lips to Blaine’s.

Blaine can’t count the number of times Kurt has kissed him over the past 25 years. It would take forever just to list them all, and Blaine would want to describe each one in loving detail. Every time Kurt’s lips are on his it’s magic, like that first fantastic breath after you’ve been underwater, and this time is no different. Kurt’s lips are soft and insistent and beautifully familiar, and Blaine nearly moans when Kurt sucks on his upper lip. 

Kurt threads his fingers firmly through Blaine’s hair, guiding his head so that Kurt can kiss him more deeply. Kurt bites at Blaine’s bottom lip, making Blaine gasp and open his mouth so that Kurt’s tongue can dart inside. Blaine makes sure to keep Kurt’s tongue in his mouth, sucking on it hard and insistent, the way he knows Kurt likes it. Kurt moans and presses himself closer to Blaine, crowding him against the wall. 

Kurt finally breaks the kiss, his eyes wide and over-bright when he pulls away. He laughs when Blaine huffs and tries to kiss him again. 

Blaine’s protest dries up on his tongue when Kurt bites high on his throat, worrying the skin between his teeth. Blaine moans, soft and low in his throat. “Oh, Kurt,” he says, and Kurt drags his lips down Blaine’s neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. Kurt bites down on just the right spot near the base of Blaine’s neck. He licks over the bite, then sucks hard, and Blaine goes weak in the knees.

“Kurt,” he says, breathless, “let’s take this upstairs.”

Kurt pulls back from Blaine’s neck and smiles at him. ‘What, you mean you don’t just want a handjob in the hallway?” he teases, taking Blaine’s hand and leading him towards the stairs.

“No, definitely not,” Blaine says, swallowing thickly. Kurt lets go of his hand and starts to climb the steps, and for a moment Blaine just stands there, mesmerized by the way Kurt’s thighs look in his jeans.

When Kurt glances back at Blaine and sees him staring, he laughs. “Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” he asks, slipping a hand into his own back pocket. “I’m sure looking is very nice, but just let me make it clear that if you get up here you have my permission to touch as well.”

Blaine laughs. “I’d be a fool to refuse an offer like that,” he says, scrambling to follow Kurt upstairs.

In their bedroom, Kurt carefully pulls his blue cashmere sweater over his head and goes about hanging it up in their closet. It’s such a _Kurt_ thing to do that Blaine has to smile. He remembers Kurt doing exactly the same thing the very first time they made out in Kurt’s bedroom; the sweater had been green then, but Kurt’s marvelous respect for his wardrobe had been the same. 

“I don’t get to undress you?” Blaine asks, pouting.

Kurt smiles at Blaine and toys with the top button on his shirt. “You do if you come over here.”

Blaine crosses the room to stand in front of Kurt, shuffling closer until the tips of their toes meet. “Hi,” he says, smiling softly.

“Hi, yourself,” Kurt replies, wiggling his toes. “Now are you going to divest me of my clothing, or am I going to have to find another rakishly handsome husband who will better cater to my needs?” 

Blaine laughs and starts undoing Kurt's buttons. “Don’t be silly. You know I’m irreplaceable.” 

“That you are,” Kurt says, watching Blaine’s fingers move.

It takes them awhile to get undressed - Blaine keeps getting distracted by Kurt’s soft, pale skin and Kurt spends long minutes teasingly running his fingers over the bulge in the front of Blaine’s pants. By the time they’re finally naked and kissing on their bed, Blaine can feel the familiar sting of arousal thrumming through his veins.

He kneels over Kurt and kisses down his chest, sloppy and unrefined, just wanting to taste as much of Kurt’s skin as he can. He licks a long stripe up the crease where Kurt’s thigh meets his pelvis, and Kurt shivers, his hands twitching on the bedspread. Blaine presses his nose to Kurt’s groin, breathing in deeply. He loves the way Kurt smells everywhere, but he especially loves the way he smells down here, warm and masculine and intimately dark. 

Kurt huffs in disapproval. “Are you ever not going to do that?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at Blaine.

“I’ll stop doing it when you stop smelling amazing,” Blaine replies, shrugging. “Now quiet down, I’m trying to work.”

One strangled syllable is all Kurt manages to get out before Blaine takes Kurt’s cock into his mouth. Kurt moans, his voice small and choked, and Blaine hums around him.

Kurt’s not fully hard yet, but Blaine has made this man come with his mouth enough times to know how to get him there. Blaine licks broad wet stripes up and down Kurt’s cock, letting his saliva drip down the shaft. He sucks the head into his mouth and wraps his hand around the base, stroking Kurt slowly. Kurt gasps when Blaine swipes his tongue firmly across the head, and Blaine smiles. 

He takes more of Kurt into his mouth, sucking hard and twisting his hand in tandem. Blaine loves this, loves to feel Kurt getting harder on his tongue, every suck and lick and move of his hand making Kurt’s breath come faster. Kurt’s hips start to jerk up involuntarily, pushing him deeper into Blaine’s mouth.

“Where are you going?” Kurt asks breathlessly when Blaine pulls off.

“Away from your dick,” Blaine says with a laugh, sliding back up Kurt’s body and kissing him soundly. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I really don’t want you to come until I’m fucking you.”

Kurt sighs. “Well, I can’t really fault you for that,” he says, twining his arms around Blaine’s neck and leaning up to lick into his mouth.

As they trade lazy kisses, Kurt’s hands start to wander down Blaine’s back, his palms sliding over the smooth, tan skin. Blaine makes an encouraging noise when Kurt’s hands settle on his ass cheeks, fingers digging into the muscle. Blaine hopes that Kurt’s fingers leave bruises there, ones that Blaine will see if he turns around and looks in the mirror tomorrow morning.

One of Kurt’s hands drifts between Blaine’s cheeks, his fingers dragging lightly down over Blaine’s hole and then up again. Blaine’s breathing hard through his nose, and when Kurt pushes the tip of one finger inside him, Blaine breaks away from Kurt's mouth and whines high in his throat, his head falling to Kurt’s shoulder.

“I want your tongue inside me,” Blaine says, his breath wet against Kurt’s collarbone. Kurt presses his finger in harder. Blaine’s breath hitches. “Please, babe.”

“Oh, I suppose that can be arranged,” Kurt says, smiling into Blaine’s hair. “Hands and knees, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls off of Kurt and scrambles to comply. When Kurt settles in behind Blaine and pulls his cheeks apart, Blaine feels a delicious, familiar pulse of anticipation in his stomach. 

Kurt licks over his hole, light and teasing, and Blaine lets out a soft sigh. Kurt runs his tongue over Blaine again and again - sometimes gentle, barely-there brushes, sometimes firm, dirty swipes. Blaine is breathing heavily, his face pressed to the bed.

When Kurt pushes his tongue into Blaine, Blaine whines. No matter how many times he feels this, it never gets less amazing. Kurt’s tongue in his ass is strong and soft and beautiful and dirty all at once, and Blaine kind of wants this to never end. Kurt is taking Blaine apart with every press of his tongue, and Blaine is more than happy to let himself go, moaning without reservation.

“Blaine,” Kurt whispers against him, the cool play of breath against his wet hole making Blaine shiver. Kurt kisses up his back, curving his body against Blaine’s. Blaine can feel how heavily Kurt is breathing, his breath coming fast against the back of Blaine’s neck. “Don’t get too far gone,” Kurt says, his lips brushing Blaine’s skin as he speaks. “You still have to fuck me, remember?”

“How could I ever forget?” Blaine replies, turning his head to kiss Kurt. He licks into Kurt’s mouth until he can taste himself on Kurt’s tongue. Blaine lifts an arm to wrap around Kurt’s neck, trying to bring him closer, but all he really does is lose his balance. He falls to the bed with a muffled “fuck” and Kurt comes down with him, Blaine’s arm still wrapped awkwardly around his neck.

“Smooth,” Kurt says as he untangles himself and rolls off Blaine. “Very smooth.”

Blaine laughs and flips onto his back. “Why, thank you. I do try.”

Kurt turns his head to smile at him. “You do. But could you maybe try to put your fingers in my ass before the girls get home?”

“Bossy,” Blaine teases as he reaches into the bedside table drawer for the lube. 

“Yes, well,” Kurt says, getting up on his hands and knees, “you knew what you were in for.”

Blaine settles himself between Kurt’s spread legs. He slicks two fingers and traces them over Kurt’s asshole, letting his nail catch on the edge just slightly so that Kurt gasps. “How do you want this?” Blaine asks, leaning forward to mouth at Kurt’s lower back. “Hard, slow?”

“Now,” Kurt answers, and Blaine chuckles as he pushes his fingers inside.

Kurt inhales sharply, his head falling to hang between his arms. Blaine gives him a minute to adjust, moving his fingers slowly. Kurt’s body clenches around his fingers, hot and tight, and Blaine reaches down and clumsily drips lube over his own cock. He squirts out too much, and he can feel it dripping down his balls, but when Kurt is making noises like he is now, Blaine finds it kind of hard to care. He strokes his cock with his free hand, trying hard to keep from thrusting up into his own fist.

When Blaine starts to move his fingers in earnest, pushing them into Kurt rough and fast, Kurt whines high in his throat. Blaine leans down and plants kisses on Kurt’s lower back, his cheeks, his ass crack. He drags his tongue down and flicks it against the taut skin of Kurt’s hole, making Kurt shiver and push himself back onto Blaine’s fingers, taking them deeper inside. 

Blaine keeps fucking Kurt with his fingers, listening to Kurt’s breath come faster, his whines get louder and more desperate. “Blaine, fuck me,” Kurt says, his voice high and thin. “I’m ready, fuck me.”

Blaine doesn’t need to be told twice. When he replaces his fingers with his cock, Kurt gasps. Blaine moans, the sound trailing off into a whimper once he's fully inside. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first, savoring each thrust and each breathy noise Kurt is making. He pushes his cock in deep and holds it there, his balls pressed against Kurt’s ass, then drags it almost all the way out, so that just the head is still inside Kurt.

Blaine loves taking it slow. He likes drawing out the feelings and the sensations, whether he’s fucking Kurt or being fucked by him. He thinks that sometimes slow, relaxed sex can be the dirtiest kind, because when everything is slowed down, each touch and thrust and drag of skin becomes more. When you’re fucking slow, you can’t forget what you’re doing or who you’re with, and Blaine likes that. 

Kurt, on the other hand, has always liked it hard and fast. He likes to be taken, likes Blaine to hold him down and fuck him with long, sure strokes, likes to hear Blaine whisper in his ear that he’s filthy for wanting it like this. He likes to fuck Blaine’s mouth when Blaine is down on his knees, likes to hold Blaine’s head between his palms and make him take it, likes to see Blaine’s hand moving fast over his own cock because he’s so turned on.

Blaine knows that hard and dirty and just this side of painful is what Kurt wants tonight, and he’ll get it eventually, but Blaine can’t help teasing him a little bit first. He thrusts all the way in again, grinding his hips when they’re flush against Kurt. He pulls all the way out and looks down at Kurt’s asshole, pink and wet and begging to be filled. He traces the head of his cock over it, pushing in the tiniest bit before pulling back out.

“Blaine,” Kurt says, and he means for it to come out as a warning, but he’s too breathless for it to be much more than a whine.

“Sorry, sorry,” Blaine says with a small laugh. He pushes into Kurt again, and this time he gives Kurt what he wants. He fucks him hard, slamming his hips forward, his balls slapping against Kurt with every thrust. Kurt lets out a grateful moan, his hand moving fast over his own cock.

“Yes,” Kurt says through gritted. “Yes, just like that. Fuck, yes.” Blaine pounds into Kurt again and again, gripping Kurt’s hips so hard that he knows Kurt will have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Blaine is so intent on the movement of his own cock in inside Kurt that he immediately feelings the tell-tale clenching that means Kurt is close.

Blaine slows his hips and presses himself along Kurt’s back, reveling in the slide of their sweaty skin. “You like this, huh?” he whispers into Kurt’s ear, making him shiver and move his hand even faster over his cock. “You like getting fucked hard, having my cock in your tight ass, don’t you?” 

Kurt’s stuttery “yes” makes Blaine smiles against his ear. Kurt has heard this same sentiment a million times before, but he still loves it, still begs Blaine whisper hot and dirty in his ear.

“I can tell that you do,” Blaine continues, thrusting deep into Kurt’s ass. “Your ass was made to be fucked. You’re so hot around my cock, baby, so ready to take it.”

Blaine trails his lips down Kurt’s neck, worrying at the skin with his teeth before kissing back up to his ear. “Are you gonna come now, Kurt?” he asks, sucking on Kurt’s earlobe. “Are you gonna come while I’m fucking you? You want it so bad. Do it, babe. Come with my cock in your ass.”

And Kurt does, spilling over his fist with a long moan, his asshole clenching tight around Blaine’s cock. 

Kurt moans softly as he comes down, resting his head on his folded arms. “Keep going, Blaine. Keep fucking me.”

Blaine loves this, loves fucking Kurt after he’s come, when he’s loose and pliant. Every soft moan that spills from Kurt’s lips goes straight to Blaine's cock, and he knows he won’t last much longer. Blaine pulls out when he gets close, working his cock with his fist. He traces a thumb over Kurt’s asshole, whining when he feels how easily it slips inside. “I’m so close, Kurt,” he says.

“Then come. Come on me. I know you want to,” Kurt says, turning his head to glance back at Blaine, his gaze heavy and dark.

Blaine moans and uses his free hand to hold Kurt’s cheeks open. He does want to come on Kurt, and he knows exactly where. Blaine pushes up into his fist once more, and then he’s gone. His orgasm sweeps over him and he comes on Kurt’s asshole, still so pink and used. Blaine watches, transfixed, as his come drips down Kurt’s crack. “God, that’s so hot,” he says, stroking himself through the last weak tremors. “You’re so hot, babe.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt replies, lazily rolling onto his back. “C’mere, Blaine.”

Blaine settles down with his head on Kurt’s chest and places a hand on Kurt’s stomach, lightly scratching at the skin. “That was really nice,” he says, leaning up to kiss Kurt lightly.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Kurt smiles against Blaine’s mouth.

“Can the girls be out of the house all the time?” Blaine asks as he lays his head back down.

“No,” Kurt says, laughing. “And speaking of the girls, they’re gonna be home soon. We should get showered.”

“Oh, alright,” Blaine says with an exaggerated sigh.

They shower together, and it’s very sensual until Blaine gives Kurt a shampoo mohawk and Kurt retaliates by blowing bubbles in Blaine’s face. When they get out and dry off, Blaine puts on a matching set of pajamas, and while Kurt rolls his eyes, he gave up making fun of Blaine’s choice in sleepwear a long time ago.

Kurt and Blaine settle in on the couch with glasses of wine and turn on The Sound of Music, Kurt laying with his head against the armrest and his feet in Blaine’s lap. Maria is just sitting down for her first Von Trapp family dinner when the front door bursts open and Roxanne skids into the living room, Margaret Mae close behind her.

“Hi girls,” Kurt says, leaning his head back over the armrest to look at them. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Roxanne replies, stumbling out of her boots and throwing them into the coat closet. “No one we were with knew anything about football, but other than that it was cool.” She shakes her head sadly. “No one even knew we were running a spread-option offense. Can you believe that, Daddy?”

“I absolutely cannot believe that,” Blaine replies, twisting around on the couch to look at her. “I hope you showed them the error of their ways.”

“She totally did,” Margaret Mae says, hanging her keys on the wall hook. Kurt sits up and moves over so that she can sit down next to him. “Everyone was pretty terrified of her by the end of the night.”

Roxanne shrugs, hopping over the back of couch. “They’ll get over it,” she says, curling into Blaine's side. “I did them a favor.” Blaine laughs and puts his arm around her.

“I’m going to get another glass of wine,” Kurt says, twirling the ends of Margaret Mae’s hair around his finger before standing up. “Sweetheart, do you want anything? Girls?”

“Please and thank you,” Blaine says, holding his empty wine glass out for Kurt.

“No thanks,” Roxanne says, and Margaret Mae shakes her head.

As soon as Kurt is out of the room, Blaine turns to Margaret Mae. “So,” he says, “how was your oh-so-secret date?”

Margaret Mae blushes. “It was nice,” she says with a small smile just as Rolf starts singing.

“How perfect is this?” Blaine says, indicating the tv screen. “You _are_ sixteen going on a seventeen, Mags. And fellows _are_ falling in line.”

“You’re not gonna starting singing are you?” Roxanne asks from where she has her head pillowed on Blaine’s shoulder.

“No,” Blaine says, even though he totally was. “But I might if your sister doesn’t hold up her end of our deal.” Blaine jerks his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go help your dad with those drinks, Maggie Mae?”

Margaret Mae sighs, but she gets up off of the couch and pads towards the kitchen.

“I’m so glad I’m not Maggie right now,” Roxanne says around a yawn. “Dad’s gonna grill her.”

“ _She needs someone older and wiser telling her what to do_ ,” Blaine sings, laughing when Roxanne groans.

“Sorry, kid,” he says, kissing her forehead. “You’re stuck with me.”


End file.
